


Jarag Dove

by AtlinMerrick



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017, 5eva, Crack, Emo, Loves, M/M, Penis and buggery and all the delights of the flesh, kylux adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:05:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlinMerrick/pseuds/AtlinMerrick
Summary: Porny stories of Hux and Kylo fromthese porny prompts. These stories are set a Star Wars universe where the Concordance held and the Empire and Republic are in the steady state of Cold War but not actuallyatwar.





	1. Affair of Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Misunderstandings:_
> 
> Late one night Hux discovers he's very wrong about something and it's quite thrilling...
> 
> (This is sheer crack. I'm sorry you're welcome.)

"I challenge you to a duel, you red-haired temptress!"

 _Kriff._ That wasn't what I'd meant to say.

I had meant to tell the ginger-locked usurper that I would space him if he even _looked_ at my boyfriend again, but then I was in sector twelve late one night tip-toeing in nothing but a towel toward Kylo's quarters, and suddenly the skinny man was there in _his_ towel and I just sort of started shouting about duels.

(I'm sure it's because Kylo and I are binge-watching _Game of Empires_ again, and we both agree that the duels are always the most thrilling part.)

Anyway, this Techie person stood in that corridor half naked and when I shouted he had the nerve to look unnerved and delicate and so thin-wristed I realized he couldn't have wielded a particularly heavy spoon much less a sword.

Then I realized something else. A giant shadow was falling over me.

I turned and for a moment I thought it was Kylo. Same looming bulk, same ridiculously wide shoulders, same unnecessarily darling moles all over his bare chest and then I realized that for a solid ship's week I'd been making a mistake, skulking around following this red-haired fellow, sure that he was wooing my darling knight. Except—

"You're not Kylo."

No, this man I'd repeatedly glimpsed in gangway gloom being nuzzled by the skinny ginger looked an awful lot like my lover but he was, in actual fact, bespectacled and blond and very much _not_ Kylo. Though, from the furious frown he directed at me, I was pretty sure he was as likely as Kylo to vent his spleen by throttling something.

That something was about to be me.

Tugging up my towel I started to tell the man exactly who he was dealing with, when a shadow loomed up behind the Techie person and a completely naked Kylo appeared.

"Hux, the bubble bath won't stay hot forev— Hey, what's going on?"

Frowning in exactly the way he does when his spleen needs a good venting, Kylo looked at everyone and then he glared at the big fellow who glared right back.

Suddenly they started to make these really exciting growling noises and it was when they began circling one another that I noticed the noodley red-head had a stiffy, which caused me to realize I was erect as a plasma canon, which led me to notice the big fellow was hard as a rock, and Kylo was positively dripping, and I feel sure something thrilling was about to happen, but exactly then Phasma came marching down the corridor.

Helmet tucked beneath her arm she stopped. She stared. She said, "Oh for fuck's sake." Then the captain turned right around and marched away.

Everyone got really awkward after that.

Kylo fig-leafed his nipples with two fingers, I accidentally saluted everyone's penis, the blond man kind of bowed to Kylo, then Techie took his boyfriend's hand, murmuring, "Come along Mattie," and everyone buggered off and that was kind of the end of that.

Oh, except Kylo and I went and had a lovely bath.

After the bath Kylo told me I was a bad general for thinking he'd go making love to other people. Then he challenged me to a duel.

We fought one another with our penises for a really long time. It was a very tense battle. Eventually we came all over one another's bellies. I think that means we both won.

After a bit of a nap Kylo got on his knees and made me knight him a couple times with my sleepy cock. It got hard again and then had a skirmish inside Kylo's bum.

It was thrilling.

—  
_Hux and Kylo watch 'Game of Empires' in the tub and can tell you everything, including which Ealorian unjustly cut down which Llegian in his or her prime and especially what happened at the red wedding where, apparently, sentient graiveh slaughtered everyone in all the clans, taking the iron throne for themselves. It was thrilling. (P.S. This chapter is wildly cracky, but there's emo and all sorts of things a-comin' in the thirty-one chapters here. P.P.S. If you love Techienician, too,[here you go](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10914903/chapters/24271962).)_


	2. A Long, Long Time Ago...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Past or Future:_
> 
> He's a teaser, is Ari Hux, and he'd probably have gone on awhile, all prowling-white arms and legs crawling round their bed, hair trailing and teeth nipping, but it's been much longer than three months since Ari's fucked or sucked or loved. 
> 
> So when he sees that pretty pearl bead up on Kylo's cock, more translucent than his own thin skin, the Vik'ing gives up teasing and opens his mouth...
> 
> For [Jeusus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jeusus/pseuds/jeusus)

They don't talk.

Though Kylo tries.

A lot.

Too much probably.

The chief says he's always run off at the mouth. "Even when you were a baby you babbled," Leia laughs.

Well of course, because Kylo's always been his mother's child. Like she is now, he'll one day be chief of Kalmar moon, and just like Leia, Kylo's a natural politician and peacemaker. If an Organa can't convince you with solid logic and simple facts, they'll sweet talk until you give up by agreeing.

That was neither here nor there. What _was_ here, right here in Kylo's long house, was Kylo's brand new husband. Here technically yes, but not…totally. For most of the twelve weeks since his arrival from Vik'ing moon, Armitage Hux had watched everything but said exactly _nothing._

He watched Kylo tend to chores, then emulated. He watched Kylo walk among his people, and listened to what they said. He watched Kylo talk with the chief, her attendants, and all the while Armitage said nothing then more nothing, but he watched close, his pale, pretty face the very opposite of unreadable.

It was that which gave Kylo hope. From the moment he'd stepped off the shuttle, both a spoil of war and an emblem of peace between two moons, Armitage Hux had been easy to read.

 _Everything_ was in those eyes. Anger and fear at first, intelligence and hope soon after. There was excitement, cunning, vanity, humor, all of it a swift cascade of emotion lighting up those beautiful green eyes, darting that gaze over faces, tools, practices he'd never seen, then filling them with understanding each and every time Kylo explained.

So Kylo explained _everything._

He spent an hour on the multiple uses of sunfruit, another on just how to rig a datapad to intercept Core broadcasts. He explained how to shave Enji nuts of their leathery skins and just about gave a speech on which planets had the best spices to make divinely perfect plo.

And Hux listened.

So Kylo kept talking.

About the Mid Rim and his hopes for Vik'ing and Kalmar. Though their moons were tiny, Kylo believed their tightly-knit, clannish cultures created natural politicians, mediators. "My mother used to tell me stories about your grandmothers, about how together they united the Vik'ing colonies. Mother thought they must have been so sad when the war started."

He talked about how Kalmar's first chief came from Vik'ing, and Vik'ing's first chief probably came from one of Scan'Dinav IA's other moons, maybe Union or Nors-E or even further out.

He talked about the rare mushrooms that grew on Vik'ing's dark side and the Kalmar meatworms which went so well with them. About the Vik'ing hot springs that really did make Humans horny, but the Kalmar scientist who discovered it was because Humans _thought_ that they did.

And though Armitage Hux never replied he _watched,_ and over time Kylo Organa went and fell in love with those red-lashed eyes that looked at his mouth as he talked, quick eyes that followed his big hands as they gestured, or lingered on summer-bare legs as they crossed, eyes that tonight blinked slow, slower, slowest as Kylo chopped up vegetables for their supper and talked a little shyly but in great detail about the erotic lessons Kalmarans received when they came of age.

"We have orgies."

Look, Kylo knew Hux could speak.

He'd talked plenty the day he'd arrived, six feet two inches of angry orange Vik'ing wearing little but ceremonial robes and sneery pride. And the day after, standing militant straight and serious beside Kylo, his hair an almost-sentient glory of braids, Hux had quite clearly sung his wedding vows and later, baring his chest, offered the necessary replies as the ritual tattoo cementing his union with Kylo was applied.

So it's not like Kylo _should_ have been so surprised he dropped his cutting knife, clutched his chest, and shouted, "Holy kriffing fuck," when Hux spoke, but clearly Kylo _was_ and so Kylo _did._

However, that man is indeed his mother's child so, sensing the approach of an important moment, Kalmar's chief-in-waiting unclutched his chest, stepped round the cooking knife that had nearly taken off two toes, he sat at their dining table, wedged hands tight between his knees, and politely Kylo said, "Well you don't say."

A long-limbed sprite perched beside their dancing fire, Armitage Hux smiled. He had spent the last three months doing almost nothing but watching nearly _everything,_ and he knew he was at last ready to be born into his new life.

He stood.

The mental sketch of a war-hungry chieftain with which Ari Hux came to this moon had been given dimension these last months; it now showed a woman very like his own perfect-imperfect grandmothers. The blurry image of a backward world with few redeeming features, that had now sharpened to show a society as advanced, as vexing, as intriguing and complex as his own.

Most of all, the man who'd met Hux's shuttle, the chief-in-waiting who'd wed him so their people could find common ground, he'd gone from hulking man-mountain, to gentle giant, to…

Hux stopped before Kylo and went his knees.

"…my black-haired beauty."

For a breathy moment Kylo blink-blink-blinked in both delight and surprise. For another moment he resisted the subtle pressure of Hux's hands on his knees, wondering if he was having a panic attack like the ones he'd had during his erotic lessons. Then Kylo shook his head because that didn't matter, it didn't _matter,_ what mattered was that Hux was talking, Hux was touching, Hux was—

—Kylo stopped resisting the pressure of those delicate hands, unclenching so suddenly his legs sprung wide. Ari Hux fell face-first into Kylo's crotch, pushed away in surprised overcompensation, then fell over backward, head thudding dramatically loud on the floorboards.

For a breathy moment Kylo was certain he had 1) killed his new husband and so 2) plunged their two moons right back into war and therefore 3) had really, really, _really_ pissed off his mother.

Then Armitage tipped back his head, starfished arms and legs and he _laughed._ Loud and raucous he _howled,_ graceless and glorious he snickered, he giggled and keened, he clutched his chest and kicked his legs and, lifting his head, he grinned at this relentless giant who'd given him words and time and the faith that he was worth both, and Hux reached out, finally welcoming into his arms the warmth of the man to whom he was married.

Elbows and knees thunking onto hard wood, they clutched and mashed their mouths together in a mess of smiles and laughter, they smeared each other in sloppy-sweet kisses that kind of quickly went serious, and then they were clutching at each other's arms and making ancient sounds, groans like mountains quaking deep, sighs soft as rain.

Quick smart they were in their bed where they then took a long, slow minute catching breath and mastering sudden shyness by dancing fingers under the blanket, stroking each other's bare waists and hips and—

"Oh _fuck."_

—nipples.

Kylo went stiff all the places he wasn't already, pulling away only to be pulled back by thin, eager arms.

"No, do it again," Hux panted and shut his eyes tight. Yes, he might be a willing pawn in the age-old art of diplomacy, but Ari is the son of leaders, so Ari knew that without the weight of his gaze _pressing,_ Kylo could, and so Kylo _would._

So Kylo _did._

Though not quite how Hux expected.

Instead of fingertips touching nipples again, Kylo touched Hux's _hair._

"Hu?"

"I…" Kylo pulled away again. "They said…"

Hux took those big, shaking hands and he said two things. "Keep these gorgeous hands on my body. And tell me what this they said."

_They._

There's always a they, and they love to talk, they always do.

About Vik'ings they say, says Kylo, "that you're pale, so pale you can see blue blood running behind your skin."

Holding Hux's arms up into dancing firelight, they look at that slim white arm and yes indeed, the flesh is translucent as a moon's light, and under the skin veins show like blue rivers. Kylo presses his mouth to that delicate flesh and feels the thrum of Hux's blood, moving in time with Hux's heartbeats. When Kylo bites careful, licks and then sucks the skin red, he smiles because he's knows he feels that the blood runs quicker, hotter.

So he kisses and sucks both arms tender red and up, up, up into the crook of Hux's elbows but there it ends because _there_ it's ticklish, so laughing against Kylo's mouth Hux murmurs, "Keep touching me, keep telling me."

Okay then.

About the Vik'ings, they say, says Kylo, "that their eyes are the rarest sort of green, that Humans never really have green eyes, except Vik'ings. Their eyes, they say, are like emeralds."

Hux blinks his eyes wide so that Kylo can look close and judge, and with a nod Kylo whispers, "like jewels." Inspired, Hux wriggles close and closes those pretty eyes, kissing Kylo's nose with his lashes, and oh _such_ lavish lashes they are. Sometime later Kylo will write them sexy little odes, but right now Ari cups Kylo's chin and flutters them across mole-dotted cheeks, over lips, and then soft as moth wings they flutter-kiss over Kylo's closed eyes.

Because their mouths are close again they kiss with them again, wet smiles against wet smiles, then tongue and more sounds of pleasure, fingers pushing into hair and oh yes! there's another thing they say, so Kylo says that.

"Vik'ing hair is bright as fire, they say, but cold." Hux grunts in insult and Kylo grins. Of all the things he's learned in these months of Hux's silence he's learned that this particular Vik'ing is proud of his hair.

Every morning he brushes it straight and smooth, then he twists and pulls and piles it high as a crown. He weaves braids in too and closes them with rings of silver or gold. All of which he tugs out now, on his knees and impatient. When the last shiny clip clatters to the floor, when the last braid is unwound, Ari grabs hold of Kylo's hands and pushes them into his hair.

_It's warm._

Warm as the sweat slicking Ari's skin, warm as the fire-hot room, warm as something soft always seems.

Hux bends close, brushes all that fire along Kylo's naked chest and when Kylo lets go, Hux _keeps_ going, stroking thick bare arms with the heavy softness, up along neck and face, then he straddles Kylo and slides _down._

Ari knows how this feels, the warm weight stroking, thousands of soft fingers tickling, arousing, for he did not lie about how Vik'ings come-of-age and yes indeed, Vik'ings are hair-proud and most grow it long, longer, longest. So they make love with their hair as well as their hands and mouths and everything else. So Ari knows where to linger, and with his hair he strokes Kylo's pretty arms and throat, his nipples, his belly, his cock.

He's a teaser, is Ari Hux, and he'd probably have gone on awhile, all prowling-white arms and legs crawling round their bed, hair trailing and teeth nipping, but it's been much longer than three months since Ari's fucked or sucked or _loved,_ so when he sees that pretty pearl bead up, more translucent than his own thin skin, Ari gives up teasing.

For three months this man has talked to him. _To him,_ never _at._ Hux had expected little when he landed on Kalmar. He knows how his people are perceived, how their leathers mean they must be primitive, their braids tribal, their culture quaint.

Chief Organa's respect had been his first surprise, her welcoming people his second, her son…well his black-haired beauty hasn't finished surprising him yet, and it started with all. those. words.

For weeks Kylo talked, then months, and what he said kept changing based on what he _saw._ You see, he _learned_ Ari. He learned to _call_ him Ari based on getting it wrong. He learned what Ari liked to eat and so he fed him more of that, he watched what Ari liked to do and so he brought him those things. He talked about what he'd read of Vik'ings, what he'd heard Vik'ings say about themselves, Kalmar, Mid Rim, the Core, he talked and he listened to Ari Hux's silences and _he_ _learned him._

Ari was so very done with his halfway commitment, with silence, with teasing. He wanted now, and what he wanted was here, beneath him, a pretty pearl beading at the head of Kylo's cock so Armitage Hux _sucked._

"Holy kriffing fuck!"

Ari twitched but because Kylo'd weaved fingers into Ari's hair Ari stayed and he sucked and suckled, groaned and mewled, and it would have been more than enough for Kylo, who spread his legs so wide, arched his back so high, but Kylo felt something, felt—

—he looked up and past the gorgeous orange chaos of Ari's hair, up the narrow slope of his white back, and there, sticking up in the air was Ari's bare rump humping the air in time with each suck.

 _Holy kriffing fuck_ indeed.

"Here, please, here," Kylo panted, pulling and whimpering, "Come, come," until Hux draaaagged off Kylo's cock with gentle teeth but a wicked little _bite,_ then straddling Kylo's hips he continues to hump.

And make a _mess._

They may say this and that about Vik'ings, that inimitable _they,_ but there's lots they don't because Vik'ings don't _tell._ Stuff like how Vik'ings are, for Humans, exceptionally sensual, quite sexual, and oh god they're so _wet._

Woman or man they make _slick,_ Vik'ings do, where other Humans go damp or make pretty little translucent pearls, a Vik'ing _drips,_ the wetness of their want runs down their legs, it pools in the curl of a tongue, it's sticky and slippery and salt-sweet, and right now Hux was smearing his all over his husband's cock.

Caging Kylo with his reedy arms and legs, hiding them with his firefall of hair, Ari rutted and rubbed them both slick until cock slid perfect over and beside and onto cock, hard-soft, fast-slow.

Licking into Ari's mouth Kylo breathes deep because, while Vik'ing may have aphrodisiac rivers, the scent of his husband's spit and his sweat are all his body needs. Well that and those narrow hips thrusting, a handful of pale ass, feeling Ari moan chest-rattling deep, then deeper, louder, a dozen times more dark and _wet_ when Kylo wriggles a hand between them and strokes them both.

"Oh. Holy. Kriffing. Fuck." moans Armitage Hux, punctuating each word with a thrust and hot spurt of come between their sweaty bellies.

Ari wants to stay there, sweaty and sleepy and _happy_ but Kylo beneath him has gone so still, so _stiffly_ still that Hux knows he needs something more.

Going heavy on top of Kylo's body, Ari _slides_ his chest down Kylo's chest, slides through his own come, then down some more until he's licking up his own mess and he knows that's right because Kylo starts to shake, and the lower Hux goes the more Kylo trembles, until finally Hux slides a fist and mouth round Kylo's cock and moves.

Vik'ings say things about those on their neighboring moon, they do, but there's a lot of things they don't say because Kalmarans don't tell. Stuff like how one of them, perhaps the son of Kalmar's leader, how his beautiful soft muscles go hard when he comes, how his back bows so so high, and how he throws his head back, how he comes until Ari thinks his belly will be full and how that makes him growl hungry which makes Kylo come more.

There's another thing this Kalmaran does and a dozen meters distant ten of the chief's advisors learn what that is when they hear something and so pause in their bickering.

Once they realize just _what_ they're hearing they argue _louder._

*

The fire was a few glowing coals by the time Ari and Kylo sigh each other awake. Summers this side of Kalmar are always chilly at night, so both men reach for another blanket, then warm one another up by winding their limbs together.

And they talk. They talk days and weeks and months worth of words about everything. They feed each other sunfruit and talk. They eat plo and they talk. They lick up spicy, sweet messes, which leads to slick-salty messes and they talk and talk.

The fire's long since out and Ari thinks Kylo is asleep, so he wraps his arms a tiny bit tighter. Kylo rumbles his approval, pressing his lips then his forehead to the binding tattoo on Hux's chest. Kylo feels the lub-dub of Ari's heart and imagines it pumping pretty blue blood. Then he sighs against the tiny nipple near his mouth and asks, "Do Vik'ings really have orgies?"

Hux breathes deep, 'til the pink nub nudges Kylo's lips. Kylo draws it into his mouth and begins suckling softly.

"Mmmm, you'll find out."

And Kylo does.

Turns out Vik'ings have certain…rituals to celebrate the first full moon of a new marriage. Everyone the Vik'ing bride or groom knows takes part.

When they visit Hux's home world, everyone does.

—  
_This is for[Jeusus' flawless Viking bridegroom Hux](https://78.media.tumblr.com/ad3e5915d311c8ca586d1a4baffe0ddc/tumblr_or3vhtJR4K1qdu1txo1_500.jpg) artwork. I will never be over that drawing, ever. (Rather than commit Viking fact felonies with this story, I went the space Vik'ing route, as you do.) *heart eyes Jeusus, heart eyes so much* P.S. Winklepicker [was also inspired](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11175582) by Jeusus' art._


	3. With urgency but not with haste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Self-cest:_
> 
> Kylo breathes into Hux's mouth, his thoughts and wants and what he sees seeping syrup thick right into Hux's head, so what Hux sees here in their bed with hands and mouths all over each other, what he sees isn't Kylo no, no…
> 
> …what Hux sees and touches and wants is _himself._

Kylo breathes into Hux's mouth, moans though it's barely sound, his mind's a welter of—

_need. want. need_

—and that need and want must be flooding into Hux's head because what Hux is seeing—

            _so beautiful. Ari. so so so_

—isn't possible to see with his own eyes because who Hux is tumbling in their bed, who he's clutching and love love loving is…himself.

It's their urgency doing this, he knows that, an urgency born of separation though the days apart were few, yet it's years since they've been away from one another by even hours. Even when their world was little more than war they fought beside one another always, until the day the fighting stopped.

It's seems a lifetime ago that the Third Galactic Concordance was signed but maybe that's because even in peace soldiers wait for war and so days now are lived like days then, with intensity and passion and—

—and Hux shakes a head that's been muddled for every minute of the three kriffing days Kylo was gone and now he's back and their bed isn't big enough for all the pulling they're doing, all the crawling over and wriggling under and they're still half-dressed because neither can let go long enough and it's so strange because back then, before the treaty and the peace, well every day could have been their last because a galaxy at war is a juggernaut that cares not for the fate of planets much less the beings teaming over them—

—and maybe this is late-onset shock, it's all those years of weapons and wars and even though that's over their hands never got to finish shaking, hearts never quite stopped pounding and now—

            _now Ari, now_

—now the galaxy is at peace and Kylo was gone for just three pfassking days but each minute was a tiny private skirmish with wanting and missing but it's done now it's done Kylo is back and they're alone but here in their bed Kylo's doing something he's never done before, never ever done and boy he's done a lot, a Force-user's mind is a crazy place Ari can tell you that first hand but this, this is new, this is Kylo bleeding…

…bleeding out.

It's his thoughts and wants and _what he sees_ seeping right into Hux's head, so what Hux sees here in their bed with hands and mouths all over each other, what he sees isn't Kylo but himself, half-removed velvet maroon coat clashing with his orange hair, pale white skin dotted from hip to nipple with shrapnel scars that look like meteor strikes, he sees every old wound and blemish on his body each with that rare kind of beautiful created by a lover's eye and—

            _touch touch touch_

—and yes this _is_ how the Force works. When a besotted man returns to his husband after one-two-three days gone he bleeds his ardor and adoration. It's no wonder the Jedi tried to cage the Force in ascetic robes for it's well named, it is a _force,_ a juggernaut as powerful as war and right now it's bleeding all over their bed so that straddling Kylo's hips Hux looks down and sees his own beautiful face, touches his own mouth and though he's never wanted to fuck himself Hux is gonna, right now he is so definitely gonna.

Pushing or pulling their clothes off, he's not sure who does what but the doing does get done and then Hux is pushing his own long legs up, up, so he can get his mouth on his own ass and in a flash his tongue is inside, fat and squirming and does he sound like that when he moans, does he sound so _syrupy,_ so slow, so sexual?

            _yessss_

In his head the words all sound like Kylo but the body he's touching looks like his own and there's something delicious about that so Hux _feasts,_ licking himself out for so long he goes dreamy with it until the first drizzle-drip of precome from a cock pointed down leaks over the hole at which he's lapping and the musk tastes of salt and then the salt turns sweet because—

—Hux laughs because it's blumfruit-flavored lube Kylo's squeezing down the crack of his own ass and for ever after tonight Hux'll call it bumfruit and maybe they're going to have to go to Endor and get the real thing and Hux is laughing _again_ because Kylo's in his head deeper still with visions of putting those fruits up Hux's ass and—

—enough. Hux clambers up, presses his cock to his own hole, looks at his own teeth-bared, grinning face and Hux kisses Hux and kisses and licks and—

—and—

—and—

—and as that mouth and those legs open wider, a lusty flower that wants the bee, the shape of the mouth under Hux's gets broader, the plane of the jaw sharper. He pulls back enough to look in dopey adoration at brown eyes, feels Kylo's heels digging into his back to pull him close again so down he goes, slim arms burrowing under that broad back while they rock and rock and even after they come and Hux's cock slips out amidst a dribble of slick they _keep rocking._

Seconds, minutes, hours pass maybe, and maybe they don't. Face-to-face and breathing in the other's breath they go calm because, though the war taught them to love with urgency, peace has taught them to do so without haste.

What they taught one another was to love everything that they are. Scars and pasts and powers both mythic and mundane. Hux has never needed the Force to understand how Kylo sees him but like the whisper of—

            _I love you_

—in your ear or your mind as your bodies cool, it's sweet to hear it just the same.

_I love you, too_

—  
_"I will love with urgency but not with haste" is from Mumford and Sons 'Not With Haste' and I'm kind of in love with the idea of Kylo bleeding out his love so powerfully that Hux_ sees what he sees.


	4. The Red Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Pet Play:_
> 
> “…neighbouring prides sometimes mix and we unexpectedly witness one of those rare instances when a massive black cat the crew nicknames Kylo comes sauntering into the midst of the red pride. Curious, brothers Hux and Techie pad over and are quickly smitten by the handsome newcomer. Together they begin grooming the black cat. 
> 
> “It’s rare to get footage of the big cats like this, rarer still to capture what happens next."

In a small recording booth a monitor shows verdant marsh grasses and a bright summer sun reflecting in a tree-lined river. Along the river's bank furred and feathered creatures team, each going about the business of eating, playing, breeding.

Staring at the monitor and waiting for his cue, Ben Organa tries to even out his breathing but succeeds only in panting louder. In the messy mixing room on the other side of a glass divider, Maz Kanata frowns. She prays that Ben fucking Organa doesn't mess this up _again._

One second, two, the producer fades the music, points at her actor—

"—and while the other animals bask in the sun of a rare dry day, these savannah big cats shun the light. Even through thick red fur their white skins are vulnerable to burning, so brothers Hux and Techie lounge together in tree-dappled shadow."

On the monitor both Maz and Ben watch as two great cats stretch out long and proceed to roll around in the shade, wriggling playfully toward one another. With excited chittering noises they start nipping each other's tails and paws. Maz hears grunting through her headset and it's not the big cats.

Sure enough her actor again misses his cue. Sighing, the producer rewinds a couple dozen frames. "Ben. Please read the script." Kanata becomes aware that though she can see a bright flush on Organa's pale cheeks she can't see his hands. She does not think about this. They go again and Ben makes it with the barest glitch.

"B-bellies full after feeding earlier, the siblings have no great imperative to do more than pass the time. Though full-grown, both Hux and Techie have yet to find a female with whom to mate, so in their lazy leisure it's unsurprising the siblings' playful bites turn to…"

The producer closes her eyes, she knows where this is going. It has gone there once today already. She's grateful her dark skin doesn't show blushes over-well.

"…breeding behaviors. Nips become licks, and soon the brothers begin rubbing their bodies against one another, biting the scruff of each other's necks, their chittering turning to purring mewls."

Ben whimpers, banging his head gently against the wall behind him, startling Maz from her daydreams. They catch one another's eye through the glass and look away quickly. After a few deep breaths Ben continues reading, and Maz continues to be pretty sure he can't see that her cheeks are on fire.

"The brothers begin practicing more earnestly, taking turns lazily mounting one another, each cat pushing his erection into whatever part of his brother he happens to be near. Over the next hour the brothers repeatedly penetrate one another to orgasm, until eventually they are as sated with sex as they are with food."

Kanata doesn't want to say it but she has to say it. It's in her contract. "Ben please get your hand out of your pants."

As if it's in _his_ contract the actor whispers. “Please Maz, just another tug."

Kanata stares at the ceiling, grateful she's brought extra knickers. She's twice had to go shopping for spares since they started making this damned feature-length documentary. Pulled from her distractions by a low sound of relief, Kanata growls, "Damn it Ben, not again."

Shouting for a cleaning crew as Ben promises he'll wank before work next time, Kanata remembers she sent everyone home hours ago. Taking a couple deep breathes to ineffectually slow her heart, the producer whispers, "That's the second time today Ben. Can you _please_ get a hold of yourself? No, I mean...oh forget it. Let's take a fifteen minute break."

Maz needs only five in the ladies, but uses the extra time to change her knickers and pull her shit together. She's not even sure why she tries. They both know the score.

After taking their places again, Organa repeats a couple lines so she can check levels and Kanata takes a deep breath. "Right. You know what's next Ben and…and can we try to just…can we." Kanata has no idea how to finish the sentence so she reseats her headset and gestures with a shaky hand. Organa starts reading.

"Sated with one another the siblings may be, but this doesn't stop another member of the pride sneaking close to boldly sniff Hux's glistening behind. Techie hisses in possessive fury and the interloper scampers away.

“After that the big cats take turns licking one another clean, the younger cat focusing on his brother's ejaculate-wet bottom.”

This time the thunk is Maz Kanata's forehead gently thumping against the mixing desk. Ben Organa doesn't so much as pause. His favourite part is coming up, the part he's failed to record properly twice already.

“In what is certainly nature's way of expanding the gene pool, neighbouring prides sometimes briefly mix and we unexpectedly witness one of those rare instances when a massive black cat the crew nicknames Kylo comes sauntering into the midst of the red pride. Curious, Hux and Techie pad over and are quickly smitten by the handsome newcomer. Together they begin grooming the black cat.

“For all his size and muscle, Kylo is quite docile, content to follow the two sleek reds as the siblings lead him to their small nest beneath the rustling shade trees.

“There Hux begins padding around the big black cat's body, sniffing and nipping, especially intrigued by the black’s sheathed member. He nudges the compliant cat on to his side and single-mindedly grooms Kylo's penis until it fully emerges from its sheath. Lifting his tail, Hux then presents his bottom directly before the larger cat's face.

"When Kylo rises, Techie huffs open-mouthed at the tender flesh of the black cat's anus and begins to lick it with obvious pleasure."

Maz idly wonders what her pulse is. Whatever the number, she's pretty sure it shouldn't be that high.

“It’s rare to get footage of the big cats like this, rarer still to capture what happens next.

“And what happens next is that slowly the black cat mounts Hux, thrusting repeatedly until his erection slides deep. At the same time Techie mounts Kylo and I’ve never seen anything like this in all my years of wildlife documentaries.”

Kanata lifts her head, peaks through the glass. Speaking of seeing, she can't see Ben's hands again. Fuck it. She slides her own under the mixing desk.

“It’s difficult to say how long the three males mate, as they seem indefatigable. Just as one ejaculates and pulls away, another climbs on or starts licking away the fresh seed, which then entices further mating.

“At no time do the cats fully separate, one always penetrating another, sometimes brother mounting brother, sometimes each clambering onto the visiting black.

“Kylo does not seem bothered by which of his openings they fill, his mouth is often as full as his hole. It’s really q-quite extraordinary.”

Kanata is only dimly aware that Organa's slight stammer is because she just half slid off her chair as she came. Maz. does. not. fucking. care. Somehow Ben actually continues reading. For once.

“When the pride's massive, yellow-furred matriarch Phasma—you'll remember she took over the pride when we were here last year—happens upon this small orgy the three males simply factor her in, allowing for something of a mating daisy chain."

Maz is one thousand percent certain Ben's in the act of ejaculating as he says this and she realises with a start that it's the first time they've recorded this far.

“The yellow queen lingers for three breedings, one with each of the ginger brothers and one with the black. After she leaves, the trio spend a long and devoted hour seeking out her scent on one another’s bodies.”

Maz fast blinks suddenly and it's not at the sight of the males lazily licking excess semen off one another's privates. She's blinking because she realises there's one more paragraph of script. After that they're actually done. Done with looping all the stuff that got messed up in the field. Done with the doc. _Done._

“The hour the three big cats spend doing this passes lazily until, aroused once more, they begin rutting again. Their mating continuing long after night falls and the next morning, when Kylo should be long gone, we find him curled in the nest between Hux and Techie, where he remains even as we pack away our gear. When we return next year perhaps the red pride and its yellow matriarch will have small black kits scampering through the grasses. We'll have to wait and see."

Maz's gaze is fixed on some distant place. She can hear Ben breathing through his mouth again. Eventually he whispers, "Did we actually finish Maz? Are we done?"

Kanata's eyes shift and she and Organa look long and hard at each other through the glass.

"The, uh. The levels Ben. They were off. Way off. My fault. We're, uh. We're going to have to go again."

The only reason the producer can hear what the actor says next is because he doesn't say anything. Instead Ben's hands slide out of view.

"From the top," Maz whispers. She starts the video at the beginning.

—  
_Well, I feel that writing this was a Sunday well-spent. By the way, I live in Ireland now and this series' new title comes from how the words red and black sound to me in Irish. And yes, I was thinking of their hair. P.S. Now with[moderately convincing](http://atlinmerrick.tumblr.com/post/166711128089/fic-the-red-pride-pet-play-neighbouring) 'shopped imagery!_


End file.
